Draco
by CLC
Summary: This is a story basically about Draco's life after the war. Draco has changed drastically since everything has happened, but not everyone is going to willingly accept that. A few familiar faces find their way back into Draco's life. Who does he decide to go with this time?
1. Chapter 1

"WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!" a shrill voice blared.

The early morning sun had just barely risen when Draco's alarm went off.

"Bloody thing, shut up!" Draco moaned.

At Draco's words, the curtains barring the two large windows in Draco's room parted. _Damned self-opening curtains,_ Draco cursed in his mind. He rolled over in bed and shielded his eyes from the light.

"TIME TO GET UP! TIME TO GET UP! TIME TO GET UP!" a chickadee tweeted from a brown wooden clock.

The cacophony of sounds finally got to Draco.

"Oh for the sake of Merlin – I'M AWAKE!" he shouted in exasperation.

All at once, the voices fell; the curtains adjusted to a reasonable parting. Draco lolled out of bed, placing his thin, pale feet on a cold stone floor. The crisp September wind that drafted through cracks in the window sent shivers up his spine. Draco's feet pitter-pattered with a slapping sound as he made his way to his wardrobe. He blinked a few times, clearing the sleepies from his eyes and grasped the silver handles. With a little bit of force, the wardrobe doors opened. A splendid array of garments reveled themselves before Draco's eyes. He fumbled around the different dress shirts and pants, unable to decide what to wear. After a couple minute's contemplation, Draco chose a deep violet ensemble, all neatly ironed. The dress clothes slipped on with ease, along with a pair of shiny black dress shoes. Draco walked over to the mirror which stood adjacent to the wardrobe. Looking at his reflection, Draco adjusted his collar and belt.

"Oh – almost forgot," Draco remembered a vital piece of his ensemble.

Draco turned back towards the wardrobe and withdrew a matching tie. Back at the mirror, he tried to complete the final touch.

"Can't ever get these things—"Draco mumbled and reached for his wand.

With a simple word, the tie was perfectly in place. Draco glanced at his reflection. Content with what he saw, Draco strode towards the bedroom door, his shoes creating that professional clack on the stone floor.

The place was entirely quiet save the sounds that Draco made. As he walked into the kitchen, two pieces of toast shot out of a toaster. Draco raised his wand and a knife instantly began to butter the toast. With another wave, a glass of orange juice was poured and freshly scrambled eggs slid onto a silver plate. Draco took his fork and dub into the scrambled eggs.

"Mmm . . . perfect," he exclaimed, a look of pleasure on his face.

Draco finished the eggs and toast after a matter of minutes. Feeling a bit full, Draco remained seated and gazed out the window. The faint sound of beeping muggle cars could be heard, along with the occasional shouting. The ding ding of bicycle bells, the alarm of a muggle car, the rumbling of the underground completed the symphony. Draco exhaled and pushed his chair out from the table. He straightened himself up and levitated the dishes over to the sink. After a quick glance at the clock, Draco decided it was time to leave. A flight of stairs and a quick walk later, Draco was standing on the platform for the tube. 'CIRCLE LINE – 5 MINUTES' the sign read. Draco sighed in relief; he hadn't missed the specified time.

_ Meet me at Paddington Station_

_ 7:35 A.M._

_ Right after the central line gets in_

_ Don't be late._

This is what the letter Draco had received informed him to do. It had no sender listed, but Draco had realized it was important; a seal had been placed on the letter. The Ministry of Magic, the place of Draco's work never allowed its seal to be posted on a personal letter. _Then is this personal or business?_ Draco had thought upon receiving the letter. Due to his doubts, Draco had decided he would dress to the nine. Little did he know, this would all pay off rather well.

Draco's curious, battering thoughts had caused the time to pass rather quickly. The clock across from Draco read 7:35 exactly. At that moment, the Circle Line train pulled up into the station. A rush of people – mostly muggles – hopped off the rain. Draco scanned the crowd anxiously for a number of Ministry workers who could have possibly sent the letter when a familiar face appeared. A beautiful, slim, curly-haired girl appeared in the mass of muggles. Her brown eyes caught sight of Draco and she flashed him a smile. She ran up to Draco, stopping awkwardly, but then hugged him.

"After all this time," Draco said.

"Oh, don't exaggerate, Draco. It's only been a year and a half," Hermione Granger retorted.

The two former-Hogwarts students smiled at each other.

"So, how have—"

"No time for catching up right now. We've got some very important business to attend to," Hermione promptly cut Draco off.

She took Draco's arm and led him towards an elevator that was out of order. Hermione tapped her wand three times on the contraption; the doors slid apart. Hermione and Draco both knew the routine. The pair stepped into the elevator, gripping onto the railing that traced its walls.

"Hold on tight," Draco chided.

The elevator zipped out of sight.


	2. Chapter 2

The rackety doors of the elevator opened, revealing the bustling lobby of the Ministry of Magic. Hundreds of witches and wizards bustled out from fire places, other elevators, and apparated out of thin air. Neither Hermione nor Draco was perturbed by the rambunctious, lively scene. The dup walked out of the way of a hunched-over elderly witch and made their way towards a series of meandering hallways.

"Where exactly are we heading?" Draco asked Hermione as they passed the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.

"We've been assigned to a new department. Interestingly enough, the Department of International Magical Co-operation says it has more than enough help at the moment despite the border issues between the warlocks and the neo-druids in Northern Ireland," Hermione quickly informed.

"So, basically, the Ministry wants to open a new, most-likely useless Department in order to appear as if it's actually making a difference?" Draco remarked.

Hermione let out a laugh and continued, "You could certainly say that about a number of Departments, but I think you'll find that this department might actually be rather useful."

Draco raised his bleach-blonde eyebrows, rather intrigued about this new department. A roar issued from behind a door labeled "Disposal of Dangerous Creature"; a scream quickly followed. Draco turned his head as a score of wizards ran towards the department door.

"Come on. I don't want to be late," Hermione pressed as she and Draco rounded another corner of what seemed like an endless hallway.

After a few more turns, Hermione chimed, "Ah, we're here."

Draco glanced at the plaque above the door before entering.

_ Department of Dark Cult Revivals and Disturbances_.

Before Draco really had a chance to think, a commanding voice spoke.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, please take a seat."

A tall, burly man stood in front of a dark-brown desk. He fashioned a black, flowing robe over a traditionally black dress suit. His shoes shone brightly as did his trim, polished mustache. The man unfolded his arms and produced a hand to shake.

"Gordon Arthur Grindally Heathrow, Minister for Magic," the man introduced himself.

It was very clear to the minister that Draco and Hermione were already well aware of who he was, even though he had only been appointed to the office six months ago. Both Draco and Hermione shook the Minister's hand and prepared to shake another as a smaller, much thinner man approached center floor.

"May I introduce you to Artemis Downing, the head of the new department that you two shall be working for?" the Minister spoke ever-so eloquently, which seemed quite unusually for a man with his strong visage.

Hermione, who was standing the closest to Mr. Downing, shook his hand first.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. It'll be a delight to work under your direction," Hermione said with a pleasant smile.

Draco's turn was next.

"Mr. Downing, sir. I am honoured."

Mr. Downing spoke words of thanks to his two new staff members and then turned the attention back to the Minister.

"Right. Now, the Department of Dark Cult Revivals and Disturbances will be working closely with a few other departments including the Department of the Mistreatment of Muggles and the Department of Dark Magic Prevention. Due to recent events, the Ministry has deemed it necessary to create a department that will solely focus on the revival of Dark Cults. With all the events of the past twenty years, the wizarding world has been demanding that a greater and specified protection be erected against such issues. I am certain that it is completely and utterly understandable of why you two have been chosen to start off this department. The Ministry is very confident that under the guide of Mr. Downing, you can thoroughly succeed." The minister finished his speech.

"We will certainly put our best into our work, sir," Hermione answered with a firm, confident tone.

Draco nodded in agreement.

"You have our dedication."

The Minister gave a quick nod to Mr. Downing and left. A few moments of awkward silence followed the Minister's departure.

"Well – we have a case to attend to. Yes, I know it's a bit sudden, but you heard what the Minister said – this department is greatly needed," Mr. Downing broke the silence.

"Of course, it's totally understandable. What is our assignment, sir?" Hermione spoke for both Draco and herself.

"It's not a major case. The Ministry doesn't want us to tackle those until next week – ANWAY – a young group of wizards have been causing chaos in the streets of South London. They've been terrorizing other young wizards and witches and have deemed themselves to be a local dark cult. Clearly, a group of teenagers in the middle of a muggle city _cannot_ be _that _dangerous. Sure enough, there have been a number of complaints about the borderline dark magic that the group has been performing. Your jobs are to intercept the group, disarm the group, confiscate their wands, inform them of their misdemeanors, give them their hearing notices, and – most importantly – try to get through to them! The Committee has agreed that having two, how do you put it, _younger_ wizards and witches on staff might benefit the Ministry and help us reach out to the rebelling youth." Mr. Downing exhaled deeply, a little red in the face after speaking for so long.

Hermione and Draco were handed pictures of the group members and an address and a time. Draco studied the faces carefully; he couldn't help but feel like he knew one of the boys in the moving photographs. _Rufus Chamberlain . . . why is he so familiar-looking?_ Draco wondered but his thoughts were interrupted by Hermione.

"The time specified is two minutes from now. We better hurry."

"All right. Are you ready?" Draco asked her.

"As ready as I will ever be," Hermione gave Draco a small smile.

A minute later, the two disapparated from the Ministry of Magic and appeared at the dead end of South London street.


	3. Chapter 3

"Confringo!" a voice yelled.

"Draco, duck!" Hermione shouted.

Almost instantly, Draco lowered his head. Not a split second later, the muggle car behind Draco burst into flames.

"Thanks, Granger," Draco said quickly, moving away from the burning vehicle.

On one side of the dead end street there was a mass of young wizards, their wands all pointed at three cowering witches across the street. Oddly enough, the witches seemed to be the only ones aware of Draco and Hermione's presence. A tall wizard no more of eighteen years of age stepped forward towards the three witches. He walked right up to the middle witch.

"Look, let's try another way. How about you and your little friends just come with us so we can perform the ceremony and then you can leave? Savvy?" the wizard spoke in a firm tone.

The young witch glanced around quickly, casting her eyes in the direction of Draco.

"What d'you say, huh? Are you goin' to answer me? What do you bloody say?—"

At that instance, Draco disarmed the wizard and sent ropes around his arms and legs. The wizard struggled to get out of it all.

"All good, Hermione?" Draco called out.

"All is very good indeed, Draco."

The wizard in ropes craned his head around to see his five mates all bound in identical rope. Hermione was smiling broadly beside them.

"Nice work, 'Mione. Now back to you," Draco paced around his captor.

"What did you have to go and do that for? We weren't harming anyone!" The wizard shouted in Draco's face.

"You very well know that's a load of rubbish! A load of blummin' shit! The Ministry has had its eye on you for a while now. Trying to start up an ancient cult with chauvinist ideals is not an innocent act!" Draco spat.

The wizard narrowed his eyes at Draco.

"And what has any of this have to do with you lot, huh?" the wizard retorted.

"You're endangering the lives of young witches! A cult like this is not a laughing matter. Plenty of witches have died because of this! It's a danger to the wizarding world," Draco defended.

The wizard merely scowled at Draco.

"And why should I care?" he spoke in a low, menacing tone.

Draco stared down the wizard, utilizing his natural intimidation factor to prepare him for the next segment.

"Got a girlfriend, have you?" Draco asked.

"No—"

"Don't LIE to me, Rufus Chamberlain. My friend and I here know pretty much everything about you and your imbecile friends! Sasha McGreeven, eighteen years old. Works at an old café just on the other side of the river. I don't think you'd want some old cult like yours coming and taking her life now, would you? WOULD YOU?" Draco shouted for effect.

Rufus Chamberlain quickly shook his head "no".

"Not so tough now, are you? Do I really need to bring you lot all the way down to the Ministry for Magic?" Draco inquired.

Rufus shook his head again.

"I didn't think so. Now, you and your friends will have hearings. The head of the Department of Dark Cult Revivals and Disturbances will oversee the hearings; it is very likely that either I or Ms. Grange will be present, as well. If I were you, I'd want me or my colleague present. The Ministry judge is absolutely ruthless." Draco drew out the last few words with a terrifying tone.

"What do I have to do to have you guys there?" Chamberlain blubbered.

"Stay away from his Dark Magic Cult nonsense. It's not good for you, any of you. We're here to help you all, but disciplining and taking proper action is all a part of our job. Messing around with this cult business is just going to ruin your lives." Draco spoke calmly but resolutely.

Rufus lowered his head in shame. His friends followed suit.

"It won't happen again, sir. We promise." Chamberlain at last spoke up.

His friends behind him murmured words of agreement. A satisfied look spread across Draco's face.

"Good, but I warn you – if any of you become involved in this again, I will personally come and find you and bring you straight to the high judge for warrant permission. You all know what that means." Draco threatened.

The young wizards cowered and cringed instantly in a similar fashion to the young witches' previous cowering. Draco scanned all their faces and walked over to Hermione.

"Do you think we should let them go?" he asked her.

"Yes, but I reckon we take their wands back with us to the Ministry. They'll be on probation for sure," Hermione concluded.

"All right," Draco confirmed and stuffed a few of the wands in his breast pocket, the rest in Hermione's.

Hermione walked over to the three witches who were still hovering in fear. She handed them each a bit of chocolate and sent them on their way.

"They should be fine. I spoke to them softly while you were handling Chamberlain," Hermione informed Draco.

"Good job, Hermione." Draco praised.

Hermione smiled widely and returned the compliment, "You were simply excellent. The intimidation factor was spectacular!"

Draco chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair.  
"What can I say? I've finally found a proper use for it."

"Ready to go?" Hermione asked.

"Hang on a moment," Draco said and scampered back over to Chamberlain.

Draco tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around.

"What?" Chamberlain blatantly asked.

"If you need anything or if anything happens, you can reach me," Draco whispered.

Chamberlain studied Draco's eyes to see if he was lying or not. After half a minute's worth of staring, Chamberlain came to a conclusion.

"All right," he plainly said.

Draco patted him on the shoulder and let a small smile appear on his face. Rufus Chamberlain and his mates dispersed.

"What do you say to going out for a nice Butterbeer after this case is done?" Draco boldly asked Hermione.

Hermione, a bit taken aback, paused.

"Th-that sounds great, Draco." She meekly answered.

Draco smiled and put his arm around Hermione's shoulder in order to lead her towards the sidewalk and away from the man fretting over his burnt car.

"Don't you think we should stay and take care of that?" Hermione over her shoulder at the bewildered muggle.

"One of the Muggle departments will take care of it. We're good."

As the muggle lost his mind at the sight of his extra-crispy Camero, Hermione and Draco disapparated.


	4. Chapter 4

After an hour's work of reporting the events of the day, Hermione and Draco headed over to _Le Phoque Noir, _a wizard's café.

"Ever been here?" Draco asked as they walked towards the café.

"I haven't, actually. I've heard of loads about it though," Hermione replied.

Draco held the door open for Hermione.

"After you," he said, gesturing his hand at the open door in a polite manner.

"Thank you, Draco," Hermione answered and stepped into the café.

_Le Phoque Noir_ was run by a stout, old Frenchman by the name of Olivier Julian. The café had been shut down for a bit during the war, but Julian had restored it to its pervious state and glory in no time.

"Ah, Draco! _Comment-allez vous?_" the boisterous owner spoke from behind the counter.

"_Je vais bien, Julian._ I hope all has been well with you, too." Draco replied, stumbling only a little with his French.

"Oui, oui we have been good," the owner's accent overpowered the English words.

Draco and Hermione both smiled graciously. Julian glanced at Hermione.

"_Alors,_ Draco! Who is this? _Une petite copine?_ At last?" the owner laughed and appeared on front of the counter.

"Don't be a noser, Olivier. I can't get girls anymore, remember?" Draco's voice faltered slightly.

An awkward, rather downcast look appeared on both Julian and Draco's face.

Draco cleared his throat, "This is Ms. Hermione Granger. She works with me in the Ministry."

Olivier Julian opened his arms wide and leaned in to kiss Hermione's cheeks.

"Enchanté!" he bowed slightly to her.

"The pleasure is mine, sir." Hermione returned the bow.

"What can I get for you two? _Des éclairs? Des maddelaines? Des bonbons?_" Julian gestured towards the delicious pastries behind the counter.

"How about two butterbeers and two éclairs for starters?" Draco suggested.

A smile spread across Julian's face, "_D'accord, mon garcon! _ Take a seat."

Hermione and Draco sat down in the corner of the café. Despite the owner's cheery disposition, the café was styled in a rather somber blue. A faint lace design traced the molding along the walls. Overall, the café was a delicately beautiful place.

"The owner is very nice," Hermione exclaimed once seated comfortably.

"He really is a great guy. He sort of took me in and protected me after the war and all . . ." Draco's voice trailed off a little.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Hermione was unsure of what to say.

"No, don't be. I got what I deserved, really. I had it all coming," Draco cleared up.

"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly happened after the war with you?" Hermione shifted her hands awkwardly in her lap but maintained constant eye contact with Draco.

"I was abandoned after the war. Abandoned by my friends, abandoned by those I love and cared about. My family was ostracized after everything that had happened. We lost our home; some angry wizards destroyed it. I couldn't get a job anywhere, let alone a girl. My father and I couldn't get along at all. My mother was a complete wreck and . . . she . . . she ended up killing herself—"

Hermione let out a small gasp and covered her mouth.

"Yeah . . . ," Draco continued, "Anyway, I moved out. Basically, I disowned my family. Even though I didn't have anywhere to go, I knew I had to leave. That's where Julian comes into the story. He and I go a while back. After the war ended, his place was the only place I wasn't recognized or bothered. It was sort of a sanctuary to me; still is. Julian was very sympathetic with me and allowed me to stay in the flat above the café. He's a very magnanimous fellow. In exchange for staying here I helped him out in the café. As you may have noticed, I picked up a bit of French, too. Most of the customers here speak only French. It's like their own French haven, really. Eventually, Julian helped me get a job at the Ministry. I've been working there for six months now. I'm forever in debt to him."

Hermione reached her hand across the table and gently touched Draco's hand. Draco exhaled and accepted the condolence.

"_Voilà! Deux butterbeers et deux éclairs! Bon appétit!_" Julian presented the food in front of them.

Draco and Hermione both smiled and said "merci". Each took a sip from their much-needed butterbeer.

"This is delicious," Hermione said as she took a bite out of her éclair.

"Oh, I know. He puts a bit of love into everything he makes, literally." Draco explained.

After the éclairs were finished, Draco spoke again.

"So, how have you been after all of this?"

"I've had my ups and downs," Hermione responded.

"Are you and Weasley still together?" Draco inquired.

Hermione took a rather large sip of butterbeer and cleared her throat, "No, we broke up about two months ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Draco lowered his voice.

"It's all right. Ronald and I had a good relationship as friends and at first as lovers, but things just didn't work out the way they were supposed to." Hermione tried to push back the painful memories.

"Have you still kept in touch with him and . . . the others?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes. I visit Harry and Ginny every week or so. Ron and I have written each other a letter or two . . ."

Draco realized he had reached a rather touchy subject; one Hermione wasn't exactly perfectly comfortable with talking about yet.

"What do you think about our new department?" Draco opted to change the topic.

"Oh, I think it's rather necessary. I'm looking forward to seeing what else is in store." Hermione answered.

"Yeah, me too. I can't wait!" Draco exclaimed.

Hermione placed her butterbeer back on its coaster and then paused.

"You know, Draco . . . it's only going to get harder from here. What we had to deal with today will be nothing compared to the endeavors we will be faced with in the future . . . This is going to be really dangerous." Hermione never lost eye contact with Draco.

Draco sipped his butterbeer, leaving a bit of frothy foam on his upper lip.

"I know. I'm prepared." He simply answered.

Hermione's gut told her that he didn't know. Her lips turned down with nerves due to this premonition. Somehow, she knew it was true.

Realizing it was getting a bit late, Draco quickly finished the last of his butterbeer.

"We should probably get going," Draco suggested.

Draco took out some coins and left a generous tip for Olivier.

"Would you like me to walk you home or something?" Draco asked Hermione as they exited the café.

"Um, I think I'll be fine, thanks. I'll probably just apparate. Thank you, though. And thank you for the drink. I've had a nice time tonight." Hermione courteously said.

Draco smiled and adjusted his collar a bit.

"It was my pleasure, Hermione. It was nice catching up a bit with you." Draco admitted.

The two awkwardly waved and said goodbye, heading off in completely opposite directions. In a matter of seconds, Draco was back in his Paddington flat, stripping off his deep purple suit and spilling into bed.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco woke up the following morning with an uneasy, odd feeling. He was having this queer premonition that something was going to happen today.

Despite his forewarning, Draco carried on through the day just fine. Work was a bit trickier, having to chase and finish off a vampire that was using old cult rituals on young blonde women. Incidentally, the vampire was easy to summon due to Draco's hair colour. He was rather disappointed and angry when he realized Draco's sex. Finding the vampire was the trouble-free part; destroying it was not. It took Draco and Hermione a full six hours to rid a small English suburb of the vampire. At one point, the vampire even attempted to bite Draco, despite him being male.

Hermione and Draco were greeted by an overwhelming amount of applause by the locals; a meal was even cooked in their honor. Upon returning to the Ministry of Magic, they were received in a much quieter manner. Mr. Downing was enthralled with the team's work and generously offered to finish the rest of the paperwork (which took another six hours to complete).

"Are you sure you don't want a bit of help?" Hermione inquired, a tad reluctant to leave such an enormous amount of work to Mr. Downing.

"Yes, yes, I can handle it! There is no need to worry, Ms. Granger. You and Mr. Malfoy have done an excellent job, of course! The Department of Dangerous Inhabitants of The British Isles sends its appreciation and thanks. With Aurona Galbrith away and Derek Kharminstov injured, your help was greatly needed. And, seeing that our department was one of the only ones that were available and registered to help – Voilà!" Mr. Downing became red in the face, a habit he had when he spoke more than one or two sentences. Hermione decided to stick around a bit and run some errands for her boss. "It's the least I can do," she had said.

Draco followed suit. H and Hermione traversed all over the Ministry building and even made some personal visits. Wherever they went, Hermione and Draco were being patted on the back and praised by fellow workers.

"Well done, you two!"

"Couldn't have done it better meself!"

"Six hours?! I don't think I could have kept myself together for that long!"

Hearing all this sincere praise was a first for Draco. He was a bit unsure of how to react to it all. All this praise, however, ended soon. While Draco was heading back to the Department of Dark Cult Revivals and Disturbances in order to go home, he accidentally bumped into a man who was weaving his way through the crowded hallway.

"You bloody watch it!" the man shouted.

Draco stopped and quickly apologized. "I didn't mean to bump you. I'm sorry."

The man stopped in front of Draco and studied his face.

"You're Lucius's kid aren't you?" he spoke in a sly, suspecting tone.

"Yes, why do you ask?" Draco replied, his eyes narrowing with caution.

"You just watch what you do around here. A lot of people wouldn't be happy knowing death eater filth like you is still working here."

Draco was completely shocked and was unable to answer. The man glared at Draco then went on his way. Draco remained standing in the hallway, utterly disgusted and feeling violated.

"I am no death eater," Draco mumbled under his breath.

Five minutes later, Draco had said his goodbyes to Hermione and Mr. Downing (who was still telling Hermione he didn't need any help) and was walking to his apartment. Having apparated just a half mile away in order to enjoy a short walk, Draco was trying to clear his mind of today's terrible encounter. _You should be proud of what you did today,_ he told himself. _What does that bastard know about you?_

"What the paper's say," Draco answered himself out loud.

The soft scuffling of work shoes was heard as Draco turned the corner. Once his apartment was in sight, Draco hurried his pace and fumbled for his wand. Making sure no one was looking, Draco took out his wand and unlocked the main door. A few people were standing in the building's lobby. The porter, a wizard, took note of Draco's appearance and ushered the Muggle tenants out of the lobby and into the porter's office. Draco nodded in thanks to the porter and patiently waited for the lobby to clear out before apparating to the 10th level – the location of his apartment.

A copy of _The Daily Prophet_ was on the entrance mat. Draco gingerly picked it up and flipped through it

**_HARRY POTTER VISITS HOGWARTS_**

_ Wizards of all ages are well aware of the story of Harry Potter, "the boy who lived". Since the days of the war which resulted in the defeat of Lord Voldemort (He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named) by Harry Potter himself, Potter has been training to become an auror. Having just passed the placement test three months ago, Harry's success has been phenomenal. Potter has jailed more than forty-four dark wizards in this three month time period, setting a new record of achievement. (Alastor Moody, one of Britain's most renowned aurors, previously held this record at forty-one). _

_ Despite the many travels of work, Potter's latest adventure has been at his former school: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Potter visited Hogwarts on Monday evening to greet the new first-year students who had been sorted and to talk to the seventh-year students about becoming an auror._

_ "It was very kind of Harry to lend his knowledge and experience to the students and, of course, it was wonderful to see him again," said Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, who had taught Harry during his years at Hogwarts. _

_ No statement from Mr. Potter was made as he prefers to stay out of the limelight. The Prophet wishes Mr. Potter the best of luck in his career pursuits and greatly applauds his generous actions._

_ —Written by Neville Longbottom_

"So that's what he ended up doing . . ." Draco read the author's name. "I always thought he'd get into something with Herbology. Wonder why he's doing this . . ."

Draco placed the paper on the counter and got up. Feeling a bit better, Draco decided it might be a good night to head out for a much-needed and well-deserved scotch. He swiftly gathered himself together, changing into something less formal for a bar, and headed out.

The Goat's Head was a proper English bar not five minutes from Draco's apartment. The bar had an enchantment on it that made Muggles see the bar's sign as "DO NO ENTER – BIOHAZARD". Needless to say, it kept the Muggles well away.

Draco entered the bar and sat down on a stool.

"One scotch, please." He told the bartender. The scotch was produced in front of him in a matter of seconds.

Draco drank and observed the scene around him. Two wizards in their thirties were playing darts. One of them in particular was not too happy about the game's results and was tossing the darts at his opponent. Three witches chatted away in a corner about the new hit single by Rose 'n' Thorns – "Love me like you love your toad." Draco absorbed the buzzing atmosphere around him.

"Another scotch, please?" Draco asked the bartender. He was fumbling around in his pocket for some money to pay for his drink when a hand placed silver coins on the counter in front of him.

"Don't worry, Praker. I'll pay for this man here, and I'll have a scotch, as well."

Draco turned to his left to see who had just spoken. A woman with dark, thick hair and a curvy body stood next to him with a face oh-so familiar.

"Hello, Draco," said Pansy Parkinson in a seductive tone.

_Blimey!_ was all Draco could think.


	6. Chapter 6

"Are you really Pansy Parkinson?" Draco asked in disbelief.

Pansy laughed at Draco's question

"Oh, sorry . . . that was a bit rude on my part," Draco apologized.

Pansy waved her hand, "No need to apologize. I know I was terribly ugly at Hogwarts."

Draco forced a laugh out and plastered a half-hearted smile on his face. Still, he couldn't keep his eyes off her body and face.

"How—how did you do all of . . . that?" Draco gestured towards her great change in body, shape, and face.

"Magical Modifications. It's a great deal of work, but it was worth it. I was staying abroad with some friends and met this doctor who said he could help. He certainly didn't tell a lie," Pansy did a twirl for Draco.

"No, he didn't," Draco said in a dazed manner.

Pansy and Draco both took this silent moment to sip their drinks; the scotch felt even more heavenly to Draco than it had before.

"So, how has my Draco been? Still getting called 'the Slytherin Sex God' by any girls?" Pansy giggled.

Once again, Draco forced out a laugh. "No that was a long time ago," Draco replied, even though it had only been a year and a half since he had heard that nickname and from Pansy herself.

Pansy toyed with her drink and smiled vivaciously at Draco.

"D'you ever think back to when we were together?"

"Uh-yeah, sure." Draco lied.

"remember when we went to the Yule Ball together? God, that was such a ghastly drag. That bitch Granger got all the attention." Pansy spat.

Draco recoiled immediately, "She was with Viktor Krum, which was completely unexpected. The two of them did look stunning together."

Pansy laughed and shook her head, toying with her drink once again.

"My, my, haven't you changed Draco?" she chuckled.

_And I can see that you haven't_, Draco was tempted to respond.

"Yeah, I have." He managed.

And awkward bout of silence ensued once again. Draco, feeling rather uncomfortable and strongly desiring to get away, checked the watch he did not own.

"Blimey! Look at the time! I've got a load of work to do tomorrow at the Ministry so I've better get going." Draco acted out his best "in a hurry" voice and visage.

Pansy being Pansy easily fell for it. _Guess she never got the brains either, _Draco snorted.

"Oh, you poor thing! You should get your well-needed beauty rest. I'll walk you home." Pansy boorishly invited herself.

Draco knew that she'd be suspicious if he tried to get out of that, too. Pansy scooped an arm around Draco and shuffled him out of the bar.

"Which way to your place, love?" Pansy asked but already headed in the proper direction.

"Straight down this street than a right onto Norfolk Square." Draco answered almost automatically, remembering the time when he had given those same directions to an old witch who had helped his too-drunken self home.

When the linked Draco and Pansy rounded the corner onto Norfolk Square, Pansy squealed suddenly.

"What?!" Draco said alarmed, abstaining from covering his ears and yelling to cover her obnoxious noises.

"We live in the same apartment building!"

Draco nearly tripped on his own feet and choked on his own spit all at the same time. Pansy looked expectantly at Draco, smiling broadly to reveal a (finally) straight set of teeth.

"That's-that's great!" Draco forced and over-smiled.

The porter waved to Draco as he and Pansy entered the apartment lobby.

"I'll find my way to my apartment from here, thanks." Draco said.

A muggle man stared at Draco, wondering why Draco had needed to be escorted to his own apartment. Draco raised his eyebrows with intimidation at the fellow and walked down a private hallway.

"Bye, Draco! I'll be seeing you soon!" Pansy called after him

Draco peeped his head around the corner and waved. "Good night!" a cheesy grin spread across his face that not even he could believe.

Back down the hallway, Draco apparated upstairs. He shut his door as quickly as possible and leaned against it once shut.

"For the love of Merlin . . ." Draco muttered under his breath.

Draco headed for his bedroom and placed his wand on his nightstand. He removed the clothes he had on and tugged on a white t-shirt and a pair of black shorts. Draco ran his right hand through his luscious blonde hair and sat down on his bed. _What a day,_ he thought to himself. The bewitched clock at Draco's bedside read 11:45. Draco leaned back, arms behind his head, and gazed at the ceiling. Just as Draco was starting to drift off, an owl tapped at his window. By the size of the owl, Draco deducted that it was a scoop owl.

"Must be a local delivery then," Draco assumed and took the letter off of the owl's extended leg.

The scoop stood on the window still, waiting for his pay and reward.

"Oh, right." Draco remembered and slipped a sickle into a tiny brown pouch tied to the owl's other leg. He placed an open palm up to the owl's beak and it gladly took the corn flavoured Bertie Bott's Every-Flavoured bean from Draco's hand. The scoop owl hooted in delight and departed. Draco settled back on his bed and unfolded the bit of parchment.

_Draco,_

_ Can you come into work early tomorrow? I am going to be late and Mr. Downing needs help. Thanks in advance!_

_ Hermione Granger_

Draco groaned at the thought of appearing at the Ministry a couple of hours in advance. Even though he liked his job and was enjoying his position in the new department, Draco dreaded waking up before the sun. He lackadaisically tossed the letter at his nightstand and rolled under his covers. A quarter of an hour later, Draco was sound asleep.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

_ Draco charged down his stone-floored hallway, dodging hexes as he went._

_ "How did you even know how to find me? How did you get in here?!" Draco shouted._

_ The man who had insulted Draco at the ministry jeered, "Easy. The Ministry put out a warrant for your arrest. I gladly obliged to collect you."_

_ Draco ducked again as another curse was thrown his way._

_ "Why would the Ministry want to arrest me?" Draco asked incredulously. _

_ Suddenly, a tall, familiar figure with long blonde hair stepped out in front of Draco._

_ "Father?" Draco stared in disbelief._

_ Lucius Malfoy broke into a small, devious smile._

_ "I needed to blame someone about all the stuff that happened with your mother and the others. You were perfect for it." He spoke in a deep growl._

_ "But I am your son!"_ Draco cried.

_ "You are no son of mine. Conversing with mudbloods and the like, leaving me after your mother's death. You are no Malfoy."_

_ At that moment, Lucius launched himself at Draco and squeezed his hands around Draco's throat. A gurgling sound emitted from Draco's throat as he struggled to breathe properly._

_ "Fa – ther—"he croaked, his eyes pleading for him to stop._

_ "Finish him." Lucius told the man from the Ministry._

_ The man raised his wand, pointing it at Draco._

_ "Avada—"_

Draco woke up with a scream, sweating and feeling completely out of breath. He blinked a couple times, double checking that he was in the safety of his apartment and that neither his father nor the Ministry worker was present. Draco sighed in relief and placed his feet on the floor. The coldness of the stone felt refreshing and helped wake Draco up a bit. Draco glanced at the clock.

"Might as well just get ready and go to work." He mumbled.

Draco arrived at the Ministry an hour earlier than he was asked to by Hermione. Surely enough, Mr. Downing was buzzing around his office filing papers and sending aeroplane notices to other departments.

"Oh, thank goodness you are here, Mr. Malfoy!" Mr. Downing called out in relief.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Draco said, standing at attention.

Mr. Downing placed an enormous stack of papers into Draco's arms.

"Start by filling these out. After you are done, file them under the correct portion alphabetically in the filing cabinet. If you get a bit confused, the order is Druids, Evilas, Gremlins, _and then_ Gremlocks. The rest should be simple." Mr. Downing spoke a mile and minute (and grew his usual shade of red).

Draco nodded in affirmation and sorted through the pile. Every known cult was listed on the papers. Information regarding them and their revivals was what was needed to be filled in.

"Sir?" Draco looked up at his boss.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Mr. Downing said as he sent two more aeroplane notices flying.

"Where do I find out the information needed, sir?"

Mr. Downing put his left palm on his forehead.

"Great Scott, I nearly forgot to tell you—"

_You did forget, sir_, Draco thought with amusement.

"Go to the Ministry Library. Two levels down right next to the Department of Magical Research." The frayed boss finished.

"Thank you, sir. I'll finish as quickly as I can." Draco informed firmly.

"Oh, no, no! Take your time! Be thorough! These files will be of great help to us later. Oh, and the two new cases we had will be added under the Vampira Noctum and Chakara."

Draco nodded and apparated down to the second sub-level of the Ministry. He easily found the library and quickly settled himself in the Dark Groups and Organizations section. Draco spread out a number of volumes and started on his first cult – the Avilas.

_**The Avilas originated in Aberdeen, Scotland in the year 903 A.D. A late forming cult of the highlands, the Avilas shared rituals of many other highland cults including the Evilas, although the two are not to be confused.**_

Draco refrained from yawning, having a hard time staying fully focused.

"Need something to wake you up a bit?" a gentle voice spoke.

Draco looked up to see Neville Longbottom two rows over in the Herbology section holding up a small, plastic can in his hand.

"Yeah, that'd be great." Draco said.

Neville walked over with a bit of a nervous spring to his step and poured two silvery chews into Draco's hand.

"They're called pepper-uppers. They're not the best tasting but they work instantly." Neville informed him.

Draco took a look at the little circles and put them in his mouth. As their title suggested, the pepper-uppers tasted like pepper. And as Neville had said, they instantly woke you up and set you in a focused mindset.

"Wow! That really did it. Thanks, man," Draco said, extending his hand to Neville who shook it gratefully.

"You've got a bit of work on your hands, don't you?" Neville said observing the pile of papers and the stack on books.

"Yeah, but it could be worse for sure. I didn't know you worked for the Ministry." Draco stated.

"I don't. I'm just here on a matter of research. I've been trying to get my Herbology book published about bog and swamp plantae but I've had no luck. I'm looking through all the Herbology volumes and writing down the authors' information (the ones that are alive, of course) in hope of contacting them about help with publication." Neville blushed a little.

"That's great, Neville. I best be getting back to my work, but I wish you the best of luck. If I can do anything to help just let me know," Draco smiled at Neville.

Neville beamed widely and said, "See ya!" He disappeared down the rows of the Herbology section again. Neville was clearly chocked at how much Draco had hanged – just like Hermione had told him.

Draco finished the file on the Avilas and moved on to the Barbaric Bombers of Bulgaria. _Can't wait till Hermione gets here._


	7. Chapter 7

**It's been a while since I've updated. I've been really busy with college applications and all. Well, here it is! THIS IS THE EXTENDED VERSION! Just switched it out. Hope you like! It's a bit of a filler, but there's some necessary stuff in it. Enjoy! R & R!**

"I'm sorry I'm so late. I got caught up in some stuff." Hermione spoke in a hurried tone. Draco looked up from his studious work, a little startled.

"It's all right; I'm about three-quarters of the way done." Draco informed her.

" I'll finish the last quarter. I just need a minute to breathe." Hermione was pacing back and forth, her breathing fast and shallow. Her hair looked a bit unkempt and there were traces of floo powder on her suit jacket.

"Is everything all right? You don't seem yourself," Draco put down the book he was holding and turned his full attention to Hermione. A harried Hermione stopped pacing and sat in the chair adjacent to Draco, hands fiddling in her lap.

"It's Ginny's birthday today and there's going to be a special dinner at the Burrow for her tonight. Everyone's expected to bring a guest and I told Mrs. Weasley that I was thinking of asking you, if you were available, and Ron – he overheard and . . . he flipped out." Hermione's breathing sped up. Draco reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Hermione, calm down. You're speaking way too fast," Draco said in a low, calming voice.

Hermione closed her eyes and drew in a deep, long breath, followed by a slow exhale.

"That's better, a lot better," Draco said as Hermione's breathing returned to a normal pace.

"Now, what happened exactly?"

_ Hermione stumbled out in a less than graceful manner into the kitchen of the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley was placing some of the last frosting roses with great acuity on top of a wondrous vanilla cake. Her face instantly lit up when she realized Hermione had arrived._

_ "Oh, Hermione, dear, I am so glad you are here. How are you? Have you any news?" Mrs. Weasley didn't lift her eyes from her meticulous project. Hermione took a stroll around the kitchen, finally settling her bags onto a wooden chair with a green cushion, and ignored the considerable amount of floo powder that speckled her jacket._

_ "I'm busy, to say the least, but I am good. Unfortunately, I do not have any news. I've been too preoccupied to be able to check in on that matter." Hermione informed Mrs. Weasley._

_ "Oh, well . . . there's always another time. I'm sure you'll be able to find out soon enough. Anyway, I do hope you are coming tonight for Ginny's celebration. She'd be quite upset if you missed it, all of us would." Mrs. Weasley placed the last rose on top of the three-layered masterpiece._

_ "Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world. Plus, Ginny has no idea that the dinner is even happening; she'd have no reason to miss me. Nevertheless, I'll be there, six o'clock sharp."_

_ Mrs. Weasley pulled out a chair with a magenta cushion and placed herself in its comforts. She placed her wand on the table, her hands folding into each other. Hermione knew what was coming based on Mrs. Weasley's expression. Whenever the overprotective and slightly nosy mother of seven wanted to get some information on one of her children's love lives, she always developed a rather curiously serene visage._

_ "Are you going to bring a special guest?" she finally popped the question._

_ "Well . . . I don't know who I'd bring, honestly. I have a pretty solid idea for one—"_

_ Hermione was cut off by the entrance of Ron into the kitchen. His formerly gangly figure had gained a bit of muscle definition; his face, age. Ron and Hermione had been on odd terms since their breakup, neither of the two willing to talk to each other about the dark matters that had plagued their relationship._

_ "Hello, Ronald." Hermione said stiffly._

_ Ron merely grunted a "hello", but was clearly taken aback at her direct greeting towards him. He opened the refrigerator and took out some left-over pork chops. Mrs. Weasley and Hermione avidly watched his every move, waiting for the room to be vacated by Ron once again. Ron, receiving the signal, sleuthed around the corner and fitted himself comfortably within a cozy chair in the adjoining room._

_ "Well?" Mrs. Weasley pressed._

_ "I was thinking of asking Draco Malfoy."_

_ There was an odd silence following Hermione's words. Mrs. Weasley looked endearingly at Hermione, placing her hands over gently over hers._

_ "I think that would be a brilliant idea," Mrs. Weasley whispered in a giddy tone._

_ Hermione instantly smiled, but quickly added, "I still have to see if he is available. I haven't mentioned it to him at all, but I thought it would be a good idea. He's been rather lonely and cast off by a lot of people. I think a party would certainly cheer him up, especially in a household as welcoming as yours, Molly." _

_ Mrs. Weasley clasped her right hand to her heart, making a soft "oh" under her breath from Hermione's endearing compliment._

_ "Well, he's always welcome here, dear. You can let him know that."_

_ Hermione nodded in affirmation and then moved over to her bags. She rummaged around for her timepiece, needing to know when she'd have to appear back at the Ministry for the day's work. She quickly found the time-telling apparatus; she still had an hour. Hermione got up from the kitchen and quietly seated herself in the room that was occupied by Ron. His gaze fixed on her the moment she entered the room. A few minutes of awkward silence ensued, neither of the two former lovers wanting to give in first. Finally, the stillness was broken. _

_ "H-how are you?" Ron managed, placing his plate of pork chops on a coffee table to his left._

_ Hermione, taken by surprise, responded, "I am quite good, thank you. How have you been?"_

_ "Good." Was all Ron could manage. Hermione looked expectantly at him, waiting to see if he was going to expand on that answer; he did not._

_ "So . . . how is work going?" Ron tried to produce a sentence without stumbling over it or stuttering._

_ "Really well, thanks. I've just been so busy; it's a very demanding job. Did you find work?" Hermione recalled Ron's job loss that had occurred during their relationship._

_ "No, not yet." Ron mumbled._

_ "Oh . . . I'm sorry to hear that," Hermione tried her best to sound sympathetic, but came across more cordial than anything. The awkward commenced yet again, only to be broken by Ron for the second time. _

"_I've been meaning to talk to you for a while now. I feel . . . terrible about everything." Ron spat out, his ears turning a slight shade of pink. Hermione crossed her legs and analyzed Ron's face. _

"_Well, Ronald, I am glad that you have finally decided to speak with me," she cordially replied. _

"_What about my apology? Do you accept it?" he inquired. _

"_I don't know."_

"_What do you mean you 'don't know'?"_

"_I am just not sure if I can so quickly forgive you for all that happened." Hermione corrected._

_Ron's eyes narrowed in an almost spiteful manner, his knuckles turning white._

"_Are you bringing anyone to the dinner tonight?" Hermione swiftly changed the topic of conversation._

"_No." Ron grunted._

"_Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Hermione frowned._

"_Yeah, sure," Ron rolled his eyes, "are you bringing anyone?"_

"_If he is able to make it, yes." Hermione said matter-of-factly._

_Ron's eyebrows rose instantaneously, "Who's this 'he'?"_

"_Draco Malfoy."_

_As soon as Hermione mentioned his name, she was unsure whether or not Ron was having a conniption. Ron's face was now fuming, a deep burgundy colored his freckled face. Hermione backed up slightly, wanting to avoid any altercation possible. Finally, he spoke._

"_You will not bring that scum into my house," Ron muttered in an extremely dark tone. _

"_He's not scum! You, of all people, should be able to restrain yourself from using such derogatory terms about him. You know for a fact that he has changed!" Hermione did not hesitate to defend Draco._

_Ron gave a wicked glare at Hermione, "He will not be coming here tonight."_

"_Yes, he will. I don't care what you say, Ronald Weasley. Draco Malfoy and I will be here at six o'clock sharp whether you like it or not!"_

_With that, Hermione stomped back into the kitchen, her dignity still with her, and began to collect a fair amount of floo powder in her hand. Ron stalked in the kitchen, following closely at her heels. As Hermione stepped into the fireplace, she turned to face Ronald for one last time. _

"_I hate you." He growled._

_Hermione was utterly shocked. Never in her life had she thought she would hear those words from anyone, especially Ron. Despite her distress, Hermione gathered herself together._

_ "Ministry of Magic," she softly spoke, her voice almost cracking. _

_She was gone._

Draco was tentative of what to do after Hermione finished her recount of her morning.

"Hermione –"

"Don't. It's fine. I'm fine. Everything is fine." She tried her hardest not to shed any tears, not wanting to cry in front of Draco, let alone at work.

Draco managed a comforting arm around Hermione, being careful to not come across in a suggestive manner.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'd be delighted to come to Ginny's surprise dinner with you." Draco smiled, trying his best to cheer his co-worker and soon-to-be close friend up.

Hermione produced a smile despite the oncoming tears. As soon as the first droplet traipsed down her face, Draco dabbed it away.

"It's going to be okay," he soothed quietly in her ear.

At that moment in time, Hermione felt an odd tingle trickle down her spine. Not completely aware of its true meaning right then and there, Hermione dismissed the sensation.

"Thank you, Draco," she sighed and managed a small smile on her tear-stained face.

Draco returned the smile with ease. He removed his arm from around her, noticing that she was regaining her composure. After a bit of concentration on some breathing exercises, Hermione was back to being herself.

"Right, now what work do you need me to finish?" Hermione cleared her throat.

"Er – I just finished up reporting the cult from our latest case, concerning the Vampira Noctum. That leaves about seventy-five groups left." Draco sighed at the immense stack of papers still piled up before him.

"I can finish those. You can take your break now; I know you've been working really hard on these. I'm sorry I left you to do them alone."Hermione stationed herself at section of the table covered by volumes and documents.

"Hermione, there's no need to apologize. Work is work – I did what I was supposed to be doing. Would you like me to stay or should I take my break?" Draco asked politely.

"No, go, it's okay. You've done an amazing job so far; I can finish the rest off right now. Besides, Mr. Downing might need another feat completed." Hermione said.

"All right, if you need anything, just let me know." Draco said hesitantly, and left for his much-needed break.

With an hour to kill, Draco figured he would get a bite to eat. He made his way towards the elevators, stepping in and pressing the 'FC' button once it arrived. Originally, it had taken Draco a while to learn what 'FC' stood for until one day a wizard pressed the button and got off on that floor. A wafting smell of all kinds of food consumed the elevator; everyone who had been in that shaft instantly felt hungry. Draco had been rather confused about why the Ministry had added an enormous food court to its many floors. _Of all things, I guess this is the best thing they've added_, he had thought. Apparently, the Ministry had erected a food court due to complaints from over-worked staff who claimed that they couldn't leave the Ministry building to get lunch. Nevertheless, the court was top notch.

Draco happily entered the food court, the aromas of all sorts of ethnic foods already entering his nose and enlightening his sense. Draco grabbed a tray, passing under the large archway that contained the information regarding the creation of the food court. He glanced around at the variety of cuisines available; he knew exactly what he could go for: fish and queue wasn't too long, and within five minutes Draco had his coveted food. He made his way over to one of the high-seated tables, where he knew he could eat in peace. A number of heads turned as Draco made his way to that sector of the eatery.

"Just ignore the stares; they're going to do that no matter what anyone says," a voice said next to Draco.

"Kipping in for lunch, Neville?" Draco laughed.

"Yeah, at last. I could spend hours researching and mailing people, and forget to eat. Hermione told me to get my hard-working arse down here," Neville chuckled.

"She said that?"

"Well, not those words exactly, but you get the gist of it. Hermione Granger has always been rather forceful when she knows what's best for you. No one can deny that it's a help," Neville corrected.

Draco laughed in response, lifting his glass.

"Cheers to Hermione," he toasted.

"Cheers!"

The two drank a bit, and then focused on the main attraction: the delicious food.

"So, enjoying this? Being back in the normal world of wizards? The way it used to be?" Neville asked with a bit a food in his mouth.

Draco waited until he was finished chewing then cleared his throat, "I never really got to experience what you would consider 'normal', but yes, I am enjoying this very much. I never thought things were going to be able to turn around after . . . everything, you know?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean, but we all had hope. Look what happened - we're all free, free to live again," Neville drifted off slightly in thought.

"Do people come up to you and all? Do they thank you or anything?" Draco inquired cautiously.

"Sometimes, yes. A lot of people know who I am, know who I was aligned with."

"Yeah? Well everyone seems to know who I was aligned with, too. Or at least, who my family was with," Draco uttered, a bit of malice in his diction.

Neville looked down at his almost-finished food, unable to think of something to say.

Draco noticed, "It's all right, though. I'm used to it by now."

Neville fidgeted awkwardly with his fork, but soon came to speaking again.

"If they don't know who you really are, then they're not worth your time." Neville said, his voice not faltering.

Draco leaned his head in his hand, his face propped up towards Neville.

"Thanks," Draco gave a small smile, his mind revolving around the obvious, but needed statement that Neville had just supplied him with.

Neville waved it off with his hand, "No need."

The two finished off their fish and chips in silence, noticing the time.

"I need to get back to Hermione. My hour is almost up," Draco informed.

Neville stood up, tray in hands, and started walking towards the trash bins.

"Me, too. I've got to contact at least five more wizards by the end of today," Neville quickly remembered.

"Good luck with that," Draco said.

"Thanks a lot. Hopefully I'll get this book out soon," Neville sighed, pushing the remnants of his meal into the bin.

Draco followed suit, "Yeah, I've got to get out of here early today. I've got to go to dinner with Hermione at the Weasley's house."

"Oh, nice. Maybe I'll see you the-"

"You, fraternizing with Weasleys? They better hope you don't torture them or worse by the end of the evening!" a mocking voice cut off Neville.

Draco and Neville whipped around to see who stood behind them. A young man wearing deep navy robes, glasses, and a snarl, faced them.

"Can I help you?" Draco asked harshly.

"Your kind shouldn't be allowed to work here. You shouldn't be allowed to work anywhere. You should all be shamed!" the wizard spat out, a daring finger poking at Draco.

"And what exactly is my kind?" Draco's teeth gritted together, fists clenched tight.

The wizard edged closer to Draco until he was right in his face. A tense moment passed where the two stared each other down, eyes narrowed and jaws straight.

"He's not worth it, Draco. He's just an ignorant git," Neville put his right arm in front of Draco, creating a barrier between the wizard and Draco.

Draco gave the nasty wizard one last stare and then turned to go.

The wizard shouted from where he stood, "You and your kind will be out of here soon enough! Mark my words!"

Neville hurried Draco out of the food court and back towards the Ministry elevators.

"What a stupid, ignorant arse," Neville muttered under his breath.

Draco had never recalled Neville being capable of such language, but times had changed since then. They quickly entered the elevator; luckily, it was empty for a change. The necessary buttons were pressed; the elevator zoomed off.

"I'm used to people doing that by now. It just still gets to me though," Draco murmured.

"That's nothing you should be used to," Neville began again, but his floor had arrived, "I'll see you around, Draco. Hang in there."

Neville waved a last goodbye to him as the doors of the elevator clamped shut once more. Draco leaned against the back of the elevator, his fingers holding the bride of his nose, eyes closed. A nasty headache had suddenly plagued him. _Great, just what I needed,_ Draco thought. Soon enough, he was back on the library floor. He quickly made his way towards the library, not wanting to be late. Draco returned to the table that he had been working so diligently at earlier; Hermione was seated there, avidly writing something down, the stacks of books returned and the pile of papers neatly ordered.

"I've finished the last of the reports. All we need to do now is file them properly in the office," Hermione informed, a slight smile on her face from the pride she put into her hard work.

"That's great, Hermione," Draco praised, trying his best to ignore the throbbing headache he now had.

Hermione glanced up at him and shot him a gracious smile. She continued to write on a bit of parchment.

"What are you working on now, if everything needed is done?" Draco inquired.

"Oh - it's just - it's personal," Hermione was taken off-guard. She quickly hid the parchment away in her bag.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry," Draco apologized and took a seat at the table. He placed his head in his hands, not wanting to ask any questions about the mysterious writing.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, a look of concern on her face.

Draco lifted his head, concentrating on rubbing his sore temples, "Just have a bit of a headache."

"Oh . . . if you don't want to come tonight-"

"No, no I'm coming," Draco corrected, taking in a deep breathe and opening his eyes again.

"All right . . . I just hope you're feeling better by then." Hermione tilted her head, examining Draco's expressions.

"I will, no need to worry," Draco managed a tiny smile, "Is the dinner a formal one?"

Hermione folded her hands on top of the table, still studying Draco's face.

"Actually, I'm not quite sure. I do believe that we can wear anything, but it wouldn't help to look presentable." she admitted.

Draco nodded in affirmation, "What time should I come by your place to pick you up?"

Hermione's brow frowned in thought, "Whenever you're ready, really. We're just going to apparate there. It'll be easier than using floo powder since we'll be dressed up. Just knock on my door when you arrive."

Draco nodded again. Realizing the time, he stood up and started collecting the newly forged files.

"We should probably start putting these in their drawers," he decided.

"Yes, we should. It'll take a bit of time to make sure everything is in its right place, even if we use magic to sort them. Sometimes spells go a little funny in the Ministry . . ." Hermione agreed, taking the remainder of the papers.

Mr. Downing was utterly pleased to see all the papers being filed away in their designated drawers. "Excellent, excellent!" he kept saying as he watched each drawer fill up with its proper contents. By the time Draco and Hermione finished, and by the time Mr. Downing stopped praising them for their work, Hermione and Draco had to head home to get ready for the night's event. Each went his or her's separate way, biting time.

It didn't take long for Draco to get ready. He dressed in a black pant suit, donning a forest green tie and a crisp white shirt. He truly wanted to make a good impression on the Weasleys and assorted guests. Hermione, on the other hand, had a time and a half trying to figure out what she was going to wear that evening. She tried on a number of dresses, nearly taking apart her entire wardrobe. Half an hour later, there was a precise knock on her door; Draco had arrived. He paced awkwardly outside her apartment, becoming nervous about the night's events. He casually checked himself out in the reflection of mirror, not wanting to seem overdressed for the occasion; Draco thought he looked quite presentable. At that moment, the door creaked open. Hermione appeared, a beautiful ivy green dress complimented her body. _Wow,_ Draco thought, speechless at her appearance.

"Well?" Hermione bit her lip nervously, not wanting to appear overdressed either.

"You look beautiful," Draco admitted, his eyes not leaving Hermione.

Hermione shyly smiled and then locked her apartment door. Draco keenly watched her every move, completely taken by the sight of her. An odd tingle rose up his spine; he ignored it the best he could. Draco held out his arm for her and put on a charming voice, "Ready, my lady?"

Hermione giggled and nodded, "Ready, kind sir."

The two withdrew their wands and immediately apparated.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry it's taken me a bit of time to put this up, too. Hopefully once this month is over I'll be able to update more frequently. Just a few notes here: I did keep it that Fred passed away. (I know, don't hurt me, he's one of my favs, too). There's a couple lines of French again - it doesn't really change the story at all if you can't understand it. Please Review and, most importantly, ENJOY!**

Any party or dinner at the Burrow is always a bustling scene. Ginny's birthday dinner was no different. The dining room was neatly decorated with birthday banners of red and silver lettering. Arthur Weasley sat comfortably in a chair at the head of the table, admiring the streamers and paper chains he had created. Quite the opposite, Mrs. Weasley was flustered, hurrying around the kitchen and fussing over a plump, crisp turkey. Fleur and Bill were trying their best to help her, but kept getting shooed out of the kitchen by Mrs. Weasley.

"Don't be offended, love. My mum's always been that way. Wait till she yells at Ron and won't let him even five feet near the kitchen door," Bill comforted his wife.

"Zat will be a sight to see!" Fleur giggled, her accent becoming more assimilated to British dialect.

"Well, look who it is!" Bill walked over to Hermione and Draco, hand in hand with Fleur, a great big grin on his face.

Hermione smiled avidly and opened her arms for embracing, "How are you, Bill?"

Bill took Hermione into a bear hug, rustling her hair a bit. The two giggled and smiled, then broke apart. Bill stepped forward towards Draco and extended his right hand.

"How are you, Draco?" he greeted.

Draco clasped his hand firmly and returned the salutation, "Not bad, Bill. How are you?"

"I'm quite good. You remember Fleur, don't you?" Bill stepped aside and presented his beautiful wife.

"_Mais oui. Je connais votre femme. Comment-allez vous?"_ Draco utilized the bit of French he knew.

Fleur was clearly shocked to hear him speak French and smiled brightly, "_Je vais bien, Draco, et vous? Je ne vous ai pas entendu quelque temps."_

Bill turned to Hermione as the two bickered on in French, "Do you understand a thing they're saying?"

"A little, but barely anything." Hermione answered.

"I have tried to teach Bill French for ages. He zimply cannot grasp it," Fleur explained, her conversation with Draco finished.

Draco and Hermione chuckled as Fleur gave a menacing look at Bill, and then broke into a smile. She gave him a light punch in the arm to prove her point; Bill milked every moment of it. The laughter of the group was soon interrupted by the shouting of Mrs. Weasley from the kitchen.

"I said GET OUT! YOU WILL NOT TASTE ANY OF THIS FOOD BEFORE YOUR SISTER GETS HERE! OUT!" her voice was as clear as day.

A pathetic looking Ron slumped out of the kitchen and into the dining room. He quickly eyed who was there; a look of disgust hung on his face when he looked at Draco. It was obvious to everyone in the room that Ron was staring at Hermione's body in her stunning dress.

"Hello, Ronald," Hermione cleared her throat, not overjoyed with this attention.

"Hello, Hermione," Ron returned the greeting, finally breaking his stare.

"Is something the matter?" Hermione asked coldly.

"No, not one bit," Ron muttered and sauntered off into a different section of the room.

"He's been moody ever since . . . well, you know," Bill refrained from recalling bad memories for Hermione.

"I know, and he has every reason to be. He should be forced to dwell on what he did," Hermione promptly spoke.

Bill, unable to produce something viable to say, remained quiet. Luckily, the atmosphere took a pleasant turn as Harry arrived, a blind-folded Ginny in hand. Harry was beaming, gesturing for everyone to remain silent.

"Harry, I'm not going to ask you again, where—"

Harry gave the signal.

"SURPRISE!" everyone shouted at once.

Harry lifted the blindfold off of Ginny, revealing a shocked, but happy expression on her face. Mrs. Weasley bustled over and gave her only daughter a big hug and a peck on the cheek. One by one, all the guests in the dining room gave Ginny birthday wishes and greetings.

"You guys didn't have to do this, you know," Ginny said, a bit embarrassed.

Suddenly, a crack sounded in the room.

"You know with our mother that wouldn't have been possible," George quipped.

"Oh, hush, you!" Mrs. Weasley scolded him and batted at him with her right hand.

George, who had been seldom seen at family gatherings, was greeted with as much enthusiasm as Ginny was.

"I don't mean to be stealing all your attention, Gin," George snickered, giving his sister one of his daring smiles.

"Well, what do you all say to starting dinner?" Mrs. Weasley clasped her hands together.

A round of shouts and cheers emerged. Everyone took their seats at the dinner table. Draco, Hermione, George, and Ron sat on the right side of the table while Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Fleur, and Harry sat on the left side. Mr. Weasley and Ginny resided at the heads of the table, respectively. Anticipation and hunger rose as Mrs. Weasley lifted her wand. A fully garnished, golden turkey emerged from the doorway of the kitchen, followed by stuffing, mashed potatoes, green beans, dinner rolls, and black pudding.

"You went all out, mum," George declared with a look of hungry in his eyes.

"What did you expect? It's your sister's birthday. Of course I'm going to go 'all out'," Mrs. Weasley scoffed.

The main course settled itself neatly in the designated places on the table. Ginny was given her choice of meat first; Mrs. Weasley kept her eye on her excited sons. After what seemed like hours to Ron and George, but was only a couple of minutes, Mrs. Weasley raised his hands, signaling everyone to dig in. Ron and George were the first two to take helpings, and eager look on both of their faces.

"Oh, mum, how I've missed your cooking!" George exclaimed after he had taken his first bite.

"Thank you, dear," Mrs. Weasley smiled fondly, "You look like you need a good meal. Have you been eating lately? Who's doing your cooking? Are you doing it?"

"Yes, mother, I've been eating. I have enough money to buy my own food, thanks. Sometimes I cook, but that doesn't always end up well," George answered truthfully.

"Probably like your and Fred's cookies to dad on father's day, "Bill joked.

A fond, yet distanced smile appeared on George's face, "Those were the days."

The conversation throughout dinner was rather enjoyable, particularly for Draco. He was avidly included in it by most of the members of the Weasley family and extended family. After finishing a talk about seem splitting syrup with Harry, Draco turned to Hermione. He waited patiently for her to finish her exchange with Bill.

"You know, I actually feel welcome here," Draco whispered to her, not really wanting anyone else to catch wind of this conversation.

Hermione beamed, "That's really good, Draco. You know you are welcome here; The Weasley's are glad you came."

"Yeah, it feels nice, "Draco returned the smile.

At that moment, Mr. Weasley stood up, tapping a fork to his wine glass.

"Here, here, everyone! I'd like to make a toast to my lovely daughter. May you have a long and plentiful life, full of all the things you could wish for! To Ginny!" his voice rang clear.

"To Ginny!" everyone drank to her.

Ginny blushed a deep scarlet from the amount of attention, but openly smiled at all of them.

"Thank you so much for coming. It wouldn't have been complete without you guys," Ginny admitted.

"And it wouldn't be complete without some pudding and presents!" Mrs. Weasley announced.

The plump little woman got up and shuffled everyone into the living room. A nice pile of gifts were stacked on the floor near a chair with a birthday sign on it. Everybody settled themselves in a chair or loveseat somewhere, excited to see what Ginny was going to unwrap.

"Oh no!" Draco whispered to himself.

Hermione turned to him, a bit startled, and asked, "What is it?"

"I didn't get her a gift!" he exclaimed.

"Don't worry! I've got it all covered," Hermione reassured Draco.

The first gift Ginny open contained a brand new stationary set. George let out a roar of laughter at the sight of it.

"That's gotta be from mum!" he chortled.

"Indeed, it is. Since you're . . . _nearing_ and age where you might want to . . . find a place of your own with Harry, I figured you'd need something to send me letters with. Oh, and with that paper, no one will be able to open the letters but me, so you can tell me all about what you and Harry are up to—"

"MUM!" Ginny groaned in embarrassment. It was no secret in the Weasley household that Harry and Ginny had been exploring new levels in their relationship.

"All's well, dear. You know I'd love to hear from you either way," Mrs. Weasley held back tears.

"Thanks, mum. It does mean a lot," Ginny gave her mum a tender hug.

"All right, which one would you like to open next?" Mrs. Weasley gestured towards the majority of gifts still settled on the floor.

"When are we having the pudding?" Ron interjected.

"Oh, shut it, you! We'll have the pudding after Ginny is done with her gifts!" Mrs. Weasley reproved, shaking her finger in Ron's face.

Ron slouched back onto the couch next to George, a sour expression instilled on his face.

"Mum, it's okay. You can bring out the pudding now. I don't mind everyone not looking at me while I open these gifts," Ginny tried to lessen the tension in the room.

"Thank you, Ginny!" Ron muttered and moseyed off to find the chocolate delight pudding.

"Here, dear, why don't you open this one? It's from Hermione and Draco," Mrs. Weasley suggested, a gift wrapped in silver paper in hand.

Draco glanced over at Hermione, eyebrows raised.

"You'll see," she mouthed to him.

Ginny carefully unwrapped the silver morsel, not wanting to damage what was inside.

"Oh my gosh . . . it's gorgeous," she whispered in amazement.

A silver and ruby locket lay inside, glistening with the firelight. Inscribed on the front was Ginny's full name. Ginny vigilantly opened it; inside was a reel of pictures.

"They're photos of all of us, you and Harry, Hogwarts – it's all in there," Hermione explained.

Ginny couldn't help but to tear up a little. She walked over to Hermione to embrace her.

"Thank you so much," she whispered in Hermione's ear.

Ginny then turned to Draco and hugged him, as well.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear, a tear now falling from her right eye.

"Come on, Ginny dear, let's put that necklace on you," Mrs. Weasley beckoned her over.

Mrs. Weasley helped fasten the locket around Ginny's neck.

"Oh, doesn't that look beautiful!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, her hands clasped together in joy.

After another ten minutes of gift open and witty remarks from George, everyone was enjoying a nice spot of pudding. Conversations were happening all over the place. Hermione was deeply emerged in a conversation with Ginny about her and Harry's relationship; the two were giggling incessantly. Draco, who had just finished speaking to Bill, was looking at some of the photos hanging on the walls. Besides pictures of the Weasleys, there was also a good amount of pictures of Harry and Hermione. Draco couldn't help but smile at a picture of Harry, Ron, and Hermione at thirteen years of age, posing for a photo on platform nine and three quarters. Adjacent to that was a photo of the trio the following year, all dressed up for the Yule Ball. _She looked so beautiful that day,_ Draco recalled fondly. Unexpectedly, Draco continued on to the next photo and found it to be of him. He was fifteen years old in it, giving one of the last smiles he did for a few years. Draco was taken aback by this; he understood that the Weasleys knew the truth about him now, but was puzzled as to why they'd still keep a photo of him, after all he'd done.

"Don't know why mum and dad insist on having that up. It's wrong," a voice suddenly spat.

Draco whipped around – it was Ron.

"I'm sorry they keep it up there then," Draco frowned.

"You don't belong here, you know? You're never going to be one of us. You're a rotten git, Malfoy," Ron grumbled, his fists clenching.

"You can think what you want of me, "Draco calmly replied.

"I'll think the truth, you bloody bastard—"

Ron threw a punch at Draco. Chaos instantly ensued. Within the second that Ron had thrown the punch, he had stormed out. Mrs. Weasley screamed in anger, completely startled.

"RONALD WEASLEY YOU LITTLE—"she immediately chased after him.

Draco, who was utterly stunned at what had happened and the speed that it had happened at, finally brought his fingers to his nose; his nose was gushing blood.

"Oh my god! Draco!" Hermione ran over to him.

She swiftly tended to his nose, took her wand out and muttered something under her breath. Draco felt an increase in pain for a few moments, but then felt a bit better.

"It's not broken anymore," she informed him, "Oh, I'm so sorry he did that to you."

"It-it's fine, really. I'm used to it," he tried to make light of the situation.

Mrs. Weasley re-entered the living room, flustered as ever.

"He apparated that little monster!" she cursed.

"Calm down, Molly. Everything will be all right," Arthur Weasley spoke cautiously.

"Don't you tell me to calm down!" she retorted, but did take a seat and worked on her breathing.

Draco took a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and sopped up the blood, his nose still bleeding despite it being fixed.

"Oh, Draco dear, I'm sorry that this happened. He's not been himself as of late . . ." Mrs. Weasley started to apologize.

"It's all right. I'm quite okay," Draco produced a small smile from under his handkerchief.

"I just wanted a drama-free gathering for once, "Molly started to sob.

"You know there will always be drama with us, mum. You can count on it!" George quipped with a devilish grin.

"Oh, shut it, Fred! George. Sorry, dear, I'm terribly sorry," Mrs. Weasley broke down into a fit of sobs.

George walked over to his mother and took her hand in his.

"Mum," he spoke softly," it's okay."

Mrs. Weasley threw her arms around her son and sobbed even harder. Bill and Fleur looked at each other, and then at Harry and Ginny.

"Mum? I think it's about time we get going. I've got work tomorrow and Fleur – well – she's got some things to attend to," Bill tried to nicely crack the ice.

"Same here, mum. Harry and I have some stuff we need to get done," Ginny added.

George snickered at that; Ginny poked her tongue out in response, muttering, "Oh, grow up!"

Mrs. Weasley quieted her sobs and wiped away her tears, trying to regain her composure.

"Yes, yes, it's all good. Ginny, don't forget your gifts. Fleur, don't forget to take some of the raw meat that's in the kitchen for Bill." Mrs. Weasley reminded them, using her nagging to refocus her mind.

Ginny nodded and thanked everyone in turn for coming. After collecting their needed items, Bill, Fleur, Harry, and Ginny disapparated. Mrs. Weasley finally let go of George, who also needed to return to his apartment to get a good night's sleep for work the next day. George shook hands with Draco, inviting him to come by the shop one day soon to show him about the Contagious Cold Chocolate he'd mentioned to him earlier. Draco accepted the invitation and watched with everyone else as George disapparated.

"How about some tea?" Mr. Weasley suggested, eying over his wife in concern.

"I'll get the kettle-"

"No, darling, you stay right there," Mr. Weasley ordered, taking his wand out.

A kettle filled with water floated over to the fireplace; four chairs placed themselves in a semi-circle surrounding the fireplace. Each of the four took a seat, respectively. Even for an August evening, the air was particularly chilly; the warmth of the fire was simply delightful.

"I can't wait for winter. I love gathering around this fire during it," Hermione declared in a whimsical tone.

"We will be having a Christmas gathering, as usual, but that's a few months off. You're invited, too, Draco," Mrs. Weasley spoke, mostly recovered from her sobbing.

"Thank you," Draco said, "I can only imagine how gorgeous this place looks during the wintertime, and how amazing your Christmas ham must be."

Mrs. Weasley smiled and made a slight giggle at the compliment. The kettle whistled and Mr. Weasley poured boiling water into four teacups. Each of the cups glided towards one of the four people seated in the room.

"Thanks for the tea," Draco nodded to Mr. Weasley.

"No need to thank, Draco. Usually it's just Molly and I drinking tea by the fireside – not that I don't enjoy it – I just miss having youngins' around, Molly, too." He confessed.

"I'd be delighted to keep you guys company if you ever needed any," Draco informed, sipping his steaming tea carefully.

"Myself, as well. You know I care about you two very much; staying over for an evening wouldn't be a toll on my day," Hermione added tenderly.

"Well, at least you two feel that way. George seems to have an aversion to coming here and Ron -well, Ron's always here, that's a different situation – but Bill and Fleur are usually busy. Ginny, too, though she still lives here. She's often at Harry's apartment. Charlie is currently in Sweden on some work. Our children have left the nest, basically," Mrs. Weasley said, a slightly sullen turn to his mouth.

"I'm surprised. If I had a mum that could cook like you, Mrs. Weasley, I'd be home for every meal," Draco jibed.

Everyone present gave a little chuckle. However, the mood took a bit of a turn again.

"How are your parents, Draco?" Mr. Weasley inquired.

"I haven't spoken to my father in a year; my mother's dead," he quietly replied.

"Oh . . . I'm sorry. We had no clue that had happened," Mr. Weasley nervously addressed his mishap.

"It's all right. I've been fending on my own for quite some time," Draco said.

"We know you've been on your own, dear. It worries us very much," Mrs. Weasley pointed out.

"Ah, there's no need to worry about me. I manage on my own. Luckily now, I have a wonderful partner at work that makes sure I do what I'm supposed to," Draco turned and smiled at Hermione.

Hermione gave a shy smile in reply, blushing slightly. Mrs. Weasley glanced between the two and smiled to herself. _I can't wait to see what it'll be like between the two of them at Christmas,_ Mrs. Weasley thought. _ I can't wait to be back here this Christmas,_ Draco smiled to himself. For the first night in a long time, all was well for Draco Malfoy.


End file.
